


Heaven is but a window

by emmeboo79



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Angels, Anger, Crying, Death, Depression, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship/Love, Heaven, Loneliness, M/M, Suicide, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:31:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmeboo79/pseuds/emmeboo79
Summary: A young girl (Allie) lives in a sleepy seaside village in England, where it's always cold and the sun hardly ever shines. Living in a world where you don't belong is a very lonely place to be. At seventeen years of age she should be excited about the future and adventures ahead. Unfortunately for Allie, her life isn't a fairytale,  her mother abandoned her from infancy leaving her with an absent father. She doesn't have any friends and is being mercifully bullied and taunted by the most popular girl in school. Her father is an alcoholic ex miner with no regards or concern for Allie's peace of mind or well being. She feels lost and alone with nothing to look forward to . She meets a beautiful boy who she unexpectedly feels a connection with, but feeling unworthy of anyone's attention, and feeling so inadequate you can't trust anyone ,will he be able to break through those walls she's built around her heart.One fateful day when the pain is so consuming she can't breathe,  she takes her own life, but for Allie, this is where her journey begins, for Heaven is but a window and not a door. Living in the mortal world with only her father's cries for company,  will she ever be able to reach him.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Weeks pass by with Allie watching over her father, will he ever be able to hear his daughters voice., is there someone, anyone that can help her.  
> Will he ever understand and accept why she took her life. To love someone so much that your souls are bonded together, what will it take to break Allie free. She's aghast of the revelation that people are actually affected by her passing for she truly believed she was all alone in the world.  
> Does it take dying for people to finally wake up and notice those around them.  
> Daddy i was already dead, you just didn't notice,  
> but I'm here Daddy, i never left.
> 
>  
> 
> Dedicated to Shadowhunters who gave me a life line while i was literally drowning, and for my brother who left me without warning, i love you bruv.

Allie was a tortured soul who never really fitted in with school or with life in general. She was socially awkward especially with not only the world itself but with people too, her insecurities would cloud her mind and make her feel uncomfortable to a point where she would just want to escape. The only solace and peace she felt was at home in her bedroom, where she could read her books and watch her favourite programmes on television and not be bothered by anyone. It was extremely lonely but she felt safe, unburdened and no one to disappoint but the reflection staring back at you.  
It was her final year in high school and her acedemic experience wasn't a joyous one, she wasn't popular and even the teachers forgot her name. When you only have yourself for company, solitude becomes your best friend. You exempt yourself from the world and everyone in it because you don't feel a part of it.  
Allie had high hopes of achieving excellent exam results which would enable her to go off to university and move away from the bleakness of her hometown, she always dreamed of becoming a vet. Unfortunately, Allie didn't have the intellect required to fulfill such dreams and so she felt stuck, a record stuck on repeat with no chance of moving forward. Her home had become her safe place but also her prison, her anxiety and low self esteem wouldn't allow herself to get any kind of life for herself. The village she lived in was like a tomb, suffocating, bare, confined to the restraints of her bedroom walls and the school she despised.  
Livingston was once a popular seaside resort where families would flock to on their weekend breaks, the children would bounce in the sea riding the waves and build sandcastles while their parents look on with pride and amusement. The sun would break out of the clouds and burn the sand making it almost impossible to walk upon.  
You could hear the collective sighs from their pouty lips as parents everywhere reach for the suncream that was as thick as clotted cream and took an age to sink in.  
Shops and cafés were bustling with tourists waiting to spend their money on novelty hats fit for every purpose, balls of every colour of the rainbow and candy that could break your teeth with just one crack from your widened smile. The perfumed sweet stench of hot dogs and salt in the air would envelope for miles around you bombarding your every sense of taste and smell. The laughter of children invading your ears was as beautiful as the smile on their faces, innocent and pure. The water was as clear as ice but not as cold, the sand was an unkempt mound of finely milled crystals that ate your feet whenever you walked apon it.

The town is completely unrecognisable today, outside pollution has caused the sea to turn black and the tourists to flee. What was once a little town full of promise and growth, had now become a ghost town. The sky had turned to ash and the residents preoccupied and melancholy, depression and unemployment were at it's highest.

Allie feels lonely all the time but doesn't deem herself worthy to have any friends, she doesn't consider herself to be funny or interesting enough to hold onto a conversation long enough to see how it ends. Her father works two jobs and his presence is few and far between, money is always a discuss and a struggle to access. Dinner was mute and often uncomfortable ,being able to verbally interact with ones father should be relatively easy, but for Allie, it was like pulling teeth. He never questions why her phone never rings, doesn't ask why no friends come to visit, seldom asks about her studies or any worries she may have, for Allie, they were as vast as space and equally as dark. She could never talk to him anyway, he always seemed uninterested and distant.  
She hated the way she looked and always avoided looking at herself in the mirror. When you've lived your whole life hiding in the shadows when no one looks at you longer than you deserve ,you truly believe that's all your worth. Allie has never felt wanted or desired, no one has complimented her on any attributes she may pocess, feeling ugly is all that she's ever felt, she'd become accustomed to it, like wearing that old jumper that's stuck in your wardrobe that's three sizes too big, moth eated and used.  
Some people fit into the world with ease and absolutely no effort, for Allie, it feels alien to her, as if she's the visitor instead of the host. Her only friends are her books and the imaginary character she wishes to be.  
When you've felt like this for so long that you can't remember what it feels like to be normal ,at one point do you say 'enough'

This is Allie's story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one

"Allie, it's time to get up for school" i hear through the fuzz of my lapsed concentration and half wakened state of consciousness as i slowly open my eyes. I flick my eyes over to see the clock, 7.30 am. This was the first struggle of many that i had to endure on a daily basis. To actually physically get out of your bed matched the will of any athlete, it was draining. I was always so tired, insomnia is a demon child that taunts you relentlessly as you toss and turn in the night, you can it laughing when sunrise appears and you've probably only managed twenty minutes of sleep. The dark circles under my eyes had become my look for the past five years, your thoughts consume you so much that you give yourself a headache. I manage to put on some clothes and go to the mirror, the one place where i felt most vulnerable, life would be so much easier for me if i was pretty.   
My eyes were brown, but not golden like the colour of melted caramel simmering on a rolling boil or as dark as the decadence of eighty percent chocolate, they were ordinary, plain, lacking all sparkle and fortune. Why couldn't they be bright blue or emerald green, with eyelashes so long they would flutter to the top of my lids like the wings of a butterfly. My hair wasn't a crown on my head, more like a hat that's been rained on too many times.   
My long locks looked tatty, frayed around the ends and always looked dull, just like a folding plant starved of all light. I could never get my teeth to gleam no matter how hard i brushed them, i would brush so hard the bristles would snap causing my gums to bleed, the taste of blood would burn the back of my throat and stay in definitely.  
The girls in school were all so pretty, each one trying to outshine the other, the attention from the boys were consistent and unfailing. I've never had a boy talk to me never mind want to kiss me, it's understandable, the reflection i see everyday isn't something to be chased.

I go downstairs into the kitchen to find it empty, i rarely saw my dad in the morning and this day was no different.   
My morning conversation was usually fighting the voices in my head but no matter how hard i fought, they would always win. I pour some milk over my cereal and take a bite, my appetite changes so swiftly i can hardly keep up  
with the incessant rumbles and numbness. Some days i'm ravenous and no amount of food is enough, but then i might accidentally catch my reflection in the mirror, the sight of my bloated belly would compel me to starve myself for the next few days. The emptiness in my belly equally pairing with the feeling in my heart.  
Walking to school was a twenty minute journey on foot which i didn't mind as i enjoyed being by myself. My father did buy a bike once, about five years ago, it was second hand of course as we never had the funds to buy anything brand new, come to think of it, i've never actually owned anything with the price tag still attached.  
One wheel was almost bald and the handle bars were flaking with copper chips, but that didn't deter my steely attempt to try and ride it, even falling off it and scraping my knee couldn't stop me. The barbie pink helmet was a statement in itself, i was too shocked to care to be honest, i was just elated that my father thought about my safety for once.  
I remember on one accasion tripping down the stairs and spilling a cup of coffee, he made me sponge that stain clean for three hours. He didn't care that i worn through the carpet revealing the bare wood beneath or notice me biting my bottom lip to stall the tears from falling, he was simply affirming who was the boss in the house .  
Money was never a luxury but more of a problem, my father was working two jobs to ensure the rent was paid and the cupboards were stocked. Our time together wasn't especially memorable, i think if he at least tried to make some kind of effort then i could at least meet him half way. There's a difference between being a father and being a provider, sure there's a roof over my head and food on my plate, but he knows nothing about the person i am today, or the feelings of utter despair that i have to swallow every day just to even breathe the same air as ever else.

I walk into my first class where my English teacher doesn't even wait for everyone to turn up before starting the lesson, i've had Mrs Mattheson for three years and she still can't remember my name. She makes us read through chapters one to eight of the story she's just written and then asks us to write our thoughts on the matter.  
I read through the first few chapters rolling my eyes with detachment, this wasn't really my cup of tea. The story was about a young girl attending her high school prom and her secret crush who takes her. She has five pages just describing the dress, i never knew so many colours of blue actually existed. The girl's excitement of picking out her handbag adorned with jewels and sequins was particularly nauseating and destroyed at least half of my brain cells. I finish reading yards before everyone else and start to jot down my evaluation, wanting to spare her feelings i simply state 'the story was fun and engaging '. What i really thought was the only use for it would be to blow your nose with it.  
"Sally have you finished already? " questioned Mrs Mattheson tilting her glasses to get a better view, the class erupts into sporadic spells of laughter.   
"It's Allie Miss and yes i have" i utter with obvious distain and disbelief that she still continues to miss pronounce my name after three years of correcting her.  
"Well bring it here then you can go to your next class" i hand her my notes and head to Geography with Mr Harrison. I always try and get to my classes before everyone else arrives just so i can sit at the back and remain hidden. There's only been a few instances where my seat was taken, my paranoia would engulf me into thinking the students took my chair on purpose, it wouldn't occur to me that they were probably just sitting in an empty chair. I felt a wave of panic rush over me constricting the air out of the room, i couldn't sit at the front at the class with eye's scolding into my back, i quickly made an excuse and dashedto the toilet. I stayed there for the remainder of the lesson, squating behind the cubicle door, hidden and pathetic, all because i couldn't face walking into a full classroom.  
I let out a celebratory sigh being the first to arrive , i quickly stake my claim and sit down on my prize, the seat furthest away from the rest of the class.  
Mr Harrison proceeds to show us as a map of the world and all the beautiful places that I'll never get to visit.  
The world is vast and occupied, we are a mere speck swamped by so many that if you were to blink for a fraction of a second, it would be like we never existed at all. To have the opportunity to travel to places you've only seen in books would be a dream i wouldn't want to wake up from. I would climb to the highest peak in the sky cradling the clouds beneath while precariously dangling my feet over the cliff edge. I would swim to the deepest depths of any ocean and make friends with the creatures calling it home, so many wasted dreams for someone with limited means.  
Dreams are only obtainable if your relatively rich, beautiful or successful, and i was none of those.   
What chances have i got, they are limited to say the least, an ordinary girl blinded with self loathing with no future worth aspiring to.Yep that's me alright. 

. Life wasn't a race to get to the finish line or even needed to be participated in, for me, i wasn't even on the starting block. Lunch time was the same repetitive ritual that i'd become dependent on. There was no point sitting in the dining room because i had no friends to sit with, and i wasn't going to sit by myself and be mercifully stared at and ridiculed for having no friends. I wasn't prepared to be the joke of the school and i never asked or wanted that accolade, it was thrusted upon me , no choice, and without warning. .I'd take shelter in the shade under the arms of a tree and hope i wouldn't bring any attention to myself. My lunch was never nutritious or plentiful, normally whatever was hanging around the house would suffice, today's culinary feast was a packet of crisps, a mouldy banana and a bottle of water. I think my father assumed i would eat from the cafeteria as he would sometimes leave me a little money ,mainly scratched coins he probably found wedged behind the sofa , not enough to buy a meal. He wouldn't understand the struggle of me walking into the crowded room with everyone's eyes locked on me, their unwarranted stares of seclusion and contempt burning into my skin.  
Then there's the added pressure weighing on me while standing in the cue, praying to the money gods that i have enough to pay. Elevating my stricken state even further, i then have to scour the room for an empty table, but then what if there are none, and i'm left standing there holding my tray of food with no where to go. Being in a gold fish bowl with the sharks circling around me isnt especially appetising, regardless if i aquired a table or not, the stress of eating inside in the hope for social acceptance really wasn't worth a nose bleed.  
It was never my intention to not have any friends, high school is difficult enough without the added conflict of being socially inept. Sometimes i wonder if I'm the one at fault, have i closed myself off so much that I've scared everyone away. All i want is that one person to try and break through the wall i've created and see beyond all my insecurities and self doubt and actually see a real person with real feelings who just wants to be liked.  
I'm more than just a sad soul with a heavy heart, I'm me, but when no one wants to see you or get to know you, that's all you'll ever be.


	3. Chapter 3

A particular memory burned into my brain is when my father invited some people to our house for my 16th Birthday. He even attempted to bake me a cake, sure it looked like a blind man had made it but i was surprised he made the effort. I think he felt pressured by his friends to mark my momentous birthday, your sixteenth birthday is suppose to be a special one, but my birthday's always seemed like an inconvenience rather a celebration, they were never significant enough to warrant any kind of attention. My father invited some people around to the house, seemingly pleased with himself for remembering the actual date of my birthday. Some of his friends had children my age so he assumed they would actually come, ignorance on his part, factual reality for me.Needless to say, the only people that attended my sad little party was my dad and myself, he couldnt why no one came.   
I wanted to shout, because it's me dad, i'm the reason, i'm like the disease they're scared to come near for fear of contamination. I made an excuse to spare his feelings and my obvious embarrassment, i said the ivites probably got lost in the post. He didn't seem to care either way and left me to clean up all the abandoned birthday decorations by myself, while my father spent the duration of the evening cuddling up to his best friend, Mr jack daniels.

I pull the banana from the flesh which had discolored slightly and take a bite anyway , my taste buds had subdued over the years with my over riding depression ,so had my intolerance for taste . Food didn't excite me anymore, it was merely sustenance to fuel my body and keep me alive. My stomach was in a permanent stance of contraction ,an angry ache, ever present, never fading, reaching right up to my heart. I look around to see everyone exuding laughter and playfulness while i stare into the void of my empty hole. What made me exempt from everyone else, why do i get to miss out on friendships and relationships just because I'm a little broken,.  
It's not much fun being an outsider, nobody wants to be friends with the girl casted out for not being pretty enough, or smart enough, ignored in a world where being yourself isn't good enough. I might aswell change my name to misfit, it seems more appropriate. I finish off my lunch and head back inside, i had two more lessons to do which was mainly revision as my exams were two weeks away. The pressure was immense, these exams will determine whether i have a future or not, that's a lot of expectation and unnecessary stress compressed onto someone so young. The only job i see for myself is asking "would you like fries with that?" and no doubt my future will probably be me dying in the house i was born in. I continue on with my lessons undeterred, trying my absolute hardest to stay in the now and not wander off into my head like i always did. I find it so hard to concentrate lately, it's like the teachers are talking in a foreign language and i'm the only english speaking person there. I always got home before my father and making dinner for him was such a chore, he never appreciates the effort i put in and the disconcerting looks he'd give me while chewing on his food didn't encourage me either.  
You would think i was trying to poison him with all the side eyed glances and face pulling. If i had a dog ,i would literally wash the utensils out in his water bowl and then gleefully hand him the saliva soaked knife and fork with a big old smile on my face.  
The clock ticked after five and my father was due in any minute, i pour us both a glass of orange juice and start to dish up the tuna pasta I'd just made. Within a whisper of him entering inside, i knew the first thing he'd do was trade in his juice for something more fitting. I was aware my father drank too much, the evident stench of stale beer on him was a definite giveaway. Not to mention the occasional slurred speech and wobbly demeanour.   
I do love my father, he's all I've got after all, i just don't like him very much.  
He was spending all his free time in the smoke congested ale house down the road, that i was starting to forget what he actually looked like. The weekends were the hardest, at least being at school i was out of his way , i would just in my room all day and immerse myself with my books and tv. This was my time to disappear and become someone else for a while, he always says i spend too much time in my head, but where else would i want to be.

"Hey nugget " he yells swaying in ,slamming the door so hard the floor shook. I could tell straight away with his blurred eyes and ripped veins bulging predominantly out of his forhead he'd been drinking. He stumbles forward grabbing the chair for support, managing to focus hard enough to direct his ass down on the chair. Nugget was his pet name for me, he said that when i was born my head resembled a chicken nugget. I'm not sure if he meant it in an endearing way or if it was a backhanded compliment or an insult, but for me, it was something else that chiselled away at my self esteem. An hour passes by before one of us speaks again.  
"How was your day ?" I ask him, he simply shrugs instead of letting the words escape. "Is the food okay?" his response was a secondary shrug followed by a smirk, all the while shuffling the food around on his plate, giving me no indication whatsoever, he really was hard work sometimes. Five minutes later he manages to form a sentence.   
"Have you got any plans....for the weekend?" he mumbles, eyes half closed ,still prodding at his food.  
"I might go round to Rosie's house" he doesn't acknowledge my answer and starts to chow down on his food, complete with excessive spit and unconsumed bits of food sitting on his chin made me feel sick to my stomach.  
Of course there was no Rosie, i could make up random names and give them different descriptions and my dad would never know i was lying. The rest of our dinner was silent, the atmosphere restless and uneasy, just like our relationship. The silence was defeaning even though no words were spoken. I could never talk to him as a daughter should, and he never gave me the impressionhe wanted to either. I leave him asleep on the kitchen table, his face caked in dinner and drool, and go to my room, the only that felt familiar and comfortable to me.  
I start my homework and turn on the television, most of it was just back noise and a distraction that i needed.   
My tv was always on, it becomes your best friend when it's 3am and you can't sleep because the thoughts inside your head refuse to give you a time out. I could hear my father snoring from the living room, the hoarseness of his raspy voice creeping up the stairs, univited and increasingly loud. He would sleep for a few hours, sober up, before starting his next shift, feeling like a responsibility he probably never asked for was pretty normal for me.  
My mother left was us when i was barely old enough to walk, my memories of her are vague, practically non existent, a remembrance of smell or a feeling, that's about it. She did leave me a letter that my father gifted to me when i turned fourteen, it wasn't the birthday present i was expecting. She apoligised for leaving us and that i shouldn't blame my father, she wrote that being a mother was something she hadn't planned and most importantly, something she didn't want to do.I remember throwing the note back at my dad ,i never wanted to read it ever again, the paper scorched my hands just as her words burned my heart. The look of sadness i saw creep into my father's eyes is something I'll never forget, maybe if it wasn't for me she would have stayed with him. I often wonder if I'm the one preventing him from seeking out any type of meaningful relationship ,he's had a few girlfriends but none that lasted, not as long as it would take to change the batteries out of the remote .  
Am i burden to him, am i the shackle around his neck he can't get rid of, if it wasn't for me he wouldn't have to work two jobs just to put a roof over our heads and food on our plate.  
At the end of the letter my mother begged for me not to find her, there was no questions to ask or answers to seek, she never wanted me and never will, it felt like a knife slicing through my heart and she was the one holding the blade. My father obviously felt the abandonment too, hence the heavy drinking and strained relationship with his daughter, i always blamed myself for her leaving us, and the letter was the proof.  
I was concerned a few years ago with his excessive drinking ,for months i couldn't recall a time when he was sober. Watching your own father fall at your feet and unable to move him isn't something a teenager should have to endure, my father wasn't the weight of a falling leaf, more like a falling tree. His legs would buckle beneath him trying to maintain his weight, he would bury his fingers so hard into my arms he left bruises.I remember crying as i tried to lift him up, the screams in my head were so much louder than the ones i was used to, eventually i would just give up and cover him where he layed with a blanket. Blinded with fury and lack of reasoning on my part, one day i tipped all his beer down the sink. Feeling displeased with my act of rebellion was an understatement, spewing profanities and calling me a brat who's always in the way was enough of a jolt for me not to do that ever again. I know the alcohol was partly to blame for the ill cutting words ,but they still hurt.  
It was now 2am in the morning, sleep was an illusion moving further away with every movement of the damn clock, i was a twitching restless mess with no switch off. My night light was the glare from my television screen  
Sunrise hits my window and streams throughthe glass, i felt so tired but my brain wouldn't let me sleep,.my stomach was empty but had no apetite. I go to the mirror and cover it with a towel as i couldn't bare to look at my reflection, the bags under my eyes needed luggage of their own and my hair had started to fall out. I never wear makeup so there was no need to look in the mirror longer than it would to brush my teeth. My clothes were clean but always the same, jeans and a top, muted in colour and slightly too big, with an added jumper depending on the weather. With no sign of my father, the house was vacantly still, i clean the dirty dishes and try to eat some breakfast in the hope my taste buds would spontaneously break into song, they didn't.   
My first class was gym which i affectionately named "Alcatraz " it felt just like a prison, a place which you can't escape from. When you feel physically repulsed by your own body, the last thing you want to do is change into skimpy clothing emphasising every flaw or concern you might have. To the outside world i wasn't fat, my depression had low worth had completely distorted my perception of what i actually look like.


	4. Chapter 4

Gym class was an experiment in popularity to see who will be the last girl standing, and it was usually me or a girl called Deborah Ann . A girl with with an unfortunate skin infliction or a girl who's invisible, who would you pick? I would just crawl into my skin and wish the floor would devour me, regrettably it never did and i was always picked last. Bouncing a ball around while trying your hardest not to get hit by the opposing team wasn't fun for me, of course the ball never even came close to me because that would mean i was part of the team.  
Instead i just stand there, merging my weight into the flocked patterned wallpaper behind me, all alone and unfilled, wishing i could dissapear into a world that wasn't this one.  
Walking into Biology with the surrounding echoes of cheers and admiration was relatively normal because Shane Dawson was in the class. He was the typical generic class clown that always had a story to tale and a joke to tell, whenever he spoke he had the entire class lapping up his every word, clapping ferociously with every pun or satirical remark that filtered outwards to his adorning audience. I often wondered what it would be like to be loved that much by your fellow peers that he could literally cough and they'd still applaud. My classmates would step on me as soon as they saw me. Shane was best friends with Gareth Watson, the naughtier influence of the two, stories of their pranks have been retold and celebrated all through out high school. Shane reminded me of Garfield the cat with his red hair and green eyes with Gareth as Scooby the dog, his ever faithful yet rather goofy best friend. Shane had the longest eyelashes to rival any girl wearing falsies, not that I've been that close to notice them. I only recall his girlfriend playfully teasing him about them, joking he should wear mascara and change his name to Shaneen. I remember dropping my pen in class once, it rolled all the way to the front like a magnet in charge, Madeliene, Shane's girlfriend at the time picks up the pen and asks who it belongs to.  
My voice barely a whisper "It's mine" she smiles and walks over to me.  
"Here you go Allie" the fact that this incredibly pretty and popular girl knew my name was enough of a revelation to lose my voice that i could barely say the words " thank you", i nod instead graciously accepting the pen.  
She always seemed nice and sincere and treated everyone with kindness, of course i knew her popularity and stature in this school meant we could never be friends. She'd lose all credibility if she associated herself with the common impoverished misfit. Livingston is a small town, your friends become your family, you wouldn't want to risk losing them for someone like me.  
Lunch time was the same as yesterday and every other day, sitting outside looking out at a world which i wasn't a part of. I rustle through my bag and pull out a bag of broken crisps, the cupboards at home were looking sparse and deserted, my father only went food shopping once a month so it was often a wait for new food to arrive. I always offer to help but his refusal is only paramount to the amount of alcohol he would purchase, whisky was his preffered choice but beer was the most affordable, usually buying it in abundance.  
Those last few days were always the hardest, trying to cook something edible for him when there's literally nothing but milk in the fridge is extremely difficult, i always felt like a mouse evading the trap searching for scraps. Some of the concoctions i created needed a forgiving stomach aswell as a questionable palette, the worst being boiled rice, baked beans and tinned pumpkin. I'm still surprised my father ate it when it literally looked like my intestines, but i suppose you'll eat anything when your drunk. It must be nice to spend money without fear or consequence or having to rule to a budget. I don't even own a purse to hold any money, we   
weren't starving or destitute, the bills were always paid and the bed i slept in was warm, but it still felt like a   
hardship i didn't want to bear. Deprivation isn't really an issue when you've lived with nothing your whole life.  
I've never been on holiday or travelled further than town, i've yet to feel the shallow warmth of the sun on my skin that isn't shrouded by black skies and empty promises. I don't own anything of great importance or value, well  
except for my life, and at this moment in time, it feels like a gift I'd like to return. The thought of employment did cross my mind, but that lasted longer than a breath. My anxiety makes me verbally incontinent, i barely have enough confidence to look people in the eye never mind contribute to an actual coherent conversation. 

The rest of the day was groundhog, trying to keep up with the endless dribble of revision that made my brain hurt. My mind was never a sponge, more like an eraser, as soon as i learned something new ,the words escape just as quickly as they entered. It was a battle i could never win, so why was i even taking part.  
To live your life the best you can, you need to have a purpose and aspirations, i don't feel anything anymore.  
I don't feel destined to achieve greatness or success, i'm not clever enough to contribute to society, i'm not pretty enough to fall in love, i don't feel the urge to bear life other than my own, a life is only worth living if your the one prepared to live it, and i'm not sure i want to.   
The walk home was littered with trash with most of the shops boarded up, they were now home to a group of youths not much older than me. A smoke cloud carries itself over to me ,circling me as i fight for breath while flapping my arms about like a fool, the scene amuses the boys as they start to jeer, quickly escalating to thunderous clapping and crackling.   
"Why don't you come over here little girl , i can make you feel better" i don't know which part offended me the most, the little girl comment or the invitation.  
"No chance mate, look how green gilled she is, i bet she's never had a smoke or a drink in her life" smarts another boy.  
"You'd get more action from my gran " laughs another one.  
With my face fixed to the floor, i didn't look up once and hasten my pace.I could hear the sniggering name calling behind me, some i've heard before, the rest, unwanted and undeserved. I don't even like the taste of alcohol and have absolutely no interest in puffing on a tissue wrapped stick of poison. I admit to taking a sip of my father's beer once, just to see what the attraction was, it was a moment of lunacy that resulted in me being locked in my room for two days. My Dad, in his naivety classed this as my punishment, for me it was heaven. The taste of it wasn't a success, reminiscent of mouldy bread that lingered for hours.

This was also my future, walking into an empty house with no one waiting for me. I wonder what will happen when school finishes, will he expect me to get a job and move out. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want me living with him longer than deemed necessary, i suppose it is critiqued as a little needy and pathetic, a grown woman still dependant on her father for a roof. I make myself a slice of toast, managing to scrape the remaining last bit of butter left in the tub, which luckily enough was enough to coat the bread. So with my cup of tea in my other hand, i make my way to my safe place. With my tea cooling, i run myself a bath, pouring in every type of soap i could see, they floated on the surface like the milky way as i ease my body into the volcanic water. I always liked it far too hot, hotter than the sun, burning my weakened flesh was clearly evident judging from the rawness of my skin. I let the soap suds float over me as i lay submerged, still and without action, not wanting to move from my little heated womb. Sometimes i would go under the water to test how long i could hold my breath for, it was never more than a dissapointing three minutes. Even though death intrigued me, the act of drowning certainly did not, having your lungs explode from lack of oxygen doesn't seem like a peaceful way to die.  
Getting out of the bath was a chore in itself, so much effort required for something so small. I try not to dwell in the shadows that will ultimately take my life, but when you have nothing to distract you, the darkness always wins.  
I did to no avail try councelling once, our school had an opening day inviting people from all different medical sectors to come and talk to us. The lady hosting the session had a condescending tone that made my blood simmer to a rambling boil. I felt she was judging me and not apathetic to my plight at all. She would quote texts straight from her handbook and not apply it to real life, i wasn't a tick on her check list, i was a real person ,she then implied i was being selfish to even consider wanting to hurt myself. She didn't understand my depression and refused to believe i was suffering with it, because i wasn't molested or abused as a child, my father ignoring me and enjoying a beer doesn't justify parental negligence. I haven't witnessed a horrific tragedy or experienced the loss of a loved one, i wasn't living on the streets begging for food, so why should a seventeen year old girl believe she has a mental disorder, surely it's just teen angst and puberty. Her attitude was bereft and annoyance, like i was wasting her time when she could be helping others with real problems. She could never understand the sheer strength it took for me to even open up to her, a stranger no less, i've become reliant on myself for so long that i'd become my own shield of armour. How could anyone possibly silence the voices in my head that i hear every day telling me i'm ugly, that I'm worthless, because there isn't a mute button strong enough to blunt the torrent of abuse i hear.

I could hear my father the following morning slamming the cupboard doors and cursing so eloquently it made me hastily get dressed to see what was about to unfold. I find him sitting at the table, engrossed in his newspaper clutching a coffee.  
"What's wrong Dad" i ask tentatively pulling out a chair, he shakes his head while pouring some milk over my cereal.   
"It's just work Allie, nothing for you to worry about " he reaches into his pocket spilling empty coins onto the table, he manages to catch them before handing them to me.  
"Will that be enough to get you some lunch?" it wasn't but i didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.   
"Thankyou "  
"I'll go food shopping tomorrow after work, and can you make sure you eat something hot today, your starting to look like my mother before we put her in a home"   
My father hardly ever notices my appearance, sure it was an insult but he smiled when he said it, so does that invalidate the offensive snub. He was quite the expert in making cutting snide remarks, then immediately follow it with a smirk, i never knew if he was joking or not.  
"How's your revision going? "   
"Fine" i answer taking a bite of my soggy flakes.  
"You know i never went to college but you could if you tried hard enough " his eyebrows lifted and were as sharp as his wit.  
"I do try" i say quickly defending myself.  
"I'm just saying if you spent more time with your head in your books and less time in your room watching tv, you might learn more. Why don't you invite one of your friends over for dinner one day and you could revise together "  
I simply roll my eyes, why was he interested in my non existent social life all of a sudden.   
"Everyone 's busy and i do read, i read all the time" i grab my school bag and reach for my coat heading straight for the door, anything to expel this awkward friendless conversation and make my getaway.   
"Those silly fairytale books don't count sweetheart, i'm talking about real life " he scoffs.  
"They aren't silly" i mutter under my breath, i didn't want to fuel an argument but he was purposely being ignorant, he knows my books mean the world to me.  
"Don't you think your a little old to be reading about angels and demons " he smiles while flapping his newspaper   
He didn't even have to try for the words to sting "I'll be late for school"   
"Okay have a good day sweetheart "   
What did he say, is he stoned? He's never wished me a good day in his life.


	5. Chapter 5

My first lesson was trying to avoid a headache ,the high pitched wailing of over enthusiastic students sounded like a pack of hyenas being run over by a lawnmower.   
"Everyone shut up and sit down!" bellowed Mr Matheson, he was our Economics teacher and was a surly fellow and always acted so serious.I've only ever seen him smile once , i'm not sure if it was gas or not, but i definitely saw teeth.  
"Will you all sit down, what's the matter with you " he shouts again, his patience falling fast and hard.  
"Mr Matheson, we're all just excited about graduating, can i please give these invitations out" declared a girl named Hannah Lister, she was very popular and of course enviably beautiful, but also incredibly mean. She would make fun of almost everyone, anyone that wasn't percieved as perfection she would pick them apart abd belittle them, piece by piece. There was a boy who had a birthmark on his face, the mark wasn't shy and was quite prominent, it didn't seem to trouble the boy and seemed quite confident in his own skin. I recall the sniggering in the classroom, the prolonged stares, the whispers whenever he entered the room, the snide comments renaming him John Merrick was devastating to witness. Comparing the boy to the elephant man is incomprehensible, the boy "Alex" once self assured despite the unforseen circumstances he was born with, was left so distraught and irrecoverably damaged, he was transferred to another school. It always makes me wonder how someone could be so hurtful and be oblivious to the pain they cause. Is there something missing from their conscience that tells them their behaviour is totally unacceptable, or do they just enjoy inflicting hurt onto others. Hannah was never someone I'd want to be alone with, her tongue was as sharp as a blade, with every word cutting so deep into your skin that it would expose the bone beneath.   
"What are the invitations for ?" he questions, trying his upmost to build back the students attention.  
"I'm having a party after graduation and my Mother needs to confirm numbers" Hannah announces, flaunting the gold sketched notes as if they were written by the Queen of England herself.   
"Okay but be quick" dismissed Mr Matheson waving his hands in the air to signal his displeasure.   
Hannah clears her throat ready for her little speech " Right everybody, this will be the best night of your life, there will be food...and beer..."the class in unison combust into a roar of cheering and clapping "There will also be a live band and games, so please let me know as soon as possible if you'll be coming "  
She hands the invitations out to eager students who were practically salivating at the mere sight of those golden tickets that everyone wanted and who'd probably sell their kidneys or their Grandma to attend. Of course as expected, she walks straight by my table, i didn't mind, at least the obvious snub wasn't noticeable   
"Miss Lister, did you forget someone" quires Mr Matheson, oh crap, no no no, stretching her neck to get a better   
view of the room "No sir"  
"What about Allie" not only has he outed me, but he points in my direction just to further my embarrassment.   
Hannah giggles fluently flicking her glorious mane backwards "I suppose i do need someone to answer the door and clean up after the party. Allie do you fancy it, i could dress you up as my butler, you look like a boy anyway " her sniggers matching the intensity of her eyes, ruthless and unforgiving. The floor was my go to, staring intently praying it would just swallow me up.  
"Hannah leave her alone" i dart up to see who spoke up for me, it was Madeliene.   
"I'm only playing " she teased.   
"I don't think Allie wants to play" says Madeliene, her eyes quickly shifted over to mine, soft and without predujice.   
"Let's ask her, Allie do you want to play" purred Hannah as she slowly walks over to me, she even moves like a cat, one that was about to scratch my eyes out. The blood was rushing to my face so fast i could feel the heat through my cheeks, the whispers of my unwanted audience were waiting patiently for my response.   
"Well come on "smiles Hannah, arms crossed, tapping her foot like some demonic assassin. "Do you want to play" she asks again.  
"Not with you " i choked, some of the students hear my pathetic attempt at retaliation and applaud. Madeliene shakes her head and goes to speak with Mr Matheson, who was writing on the blackboard unawares of the frosty confrontation occurring between Hannah and myself.   
"Well i see you finally found your voice, and to think all these years I've been telling people your a dumb mute.  
So come on Allie, don't stop now, what else do you want to say"  
"Nothing " i answer, returning my face to the floor.  
"That's right Allie, your nothing, remember that" she whispers in my ear, her breath was as hot as the hell she resigned in. She wasn't telling me something that i didn't already know, i tell myself the same thing every single day.  
"Hannah can you come over here please, Madeliene needs your help" Mr Matheson called out.  
"Right away Sir " she shouts, i knew that was Madeliene's ploy to distract Hannah away and i was eternally grateful. Fortunately for me, i didnt see Hannah or her minion friends for the rest of the day, we only had one class a week together so our paths rarely crossed, but most importantly, i was never worthy of her time or effort.   
The journey home took a slight detour, the beach was calling for a visit and i was never one to dissapoint.  
I squat down on the golden grit burying my feet in the sand, the air was quiet with just a flutter of a soft breeze caressing my cheek. As i wonder my gaze over the infinite blue seas, i think about how far i could swim before i beginnto tire. I would swim to my last strength before it escaped me, swimming to the end of the earth where no water would meet the tides. What if i were to drown, i think about how long it would take for someone to discover my body, i wouldn't expect my father to even notice if my cup was missing. They'll eventually find my body washed up on shore, decayed and bloated, covered with seaweed with animals feasting on my bony flesh.   
Death doesn't scare me, it's inevitable, i never envisioned myself dying as an old woman alone in her bed.  
It's such a long life if you have no one to share it with, it can be a lonely life, and one i wasn't prepared to live a lifetime for. I always knew in my heart that i would die young, whether it be by my own hands or not, i hadn't decided yet. Everyday for me was living a nightmare that i couldn't wake up from ,i remember cutting my arm once in the hope it would relieve some of the pain i was in.  
Desperation is a tormentor if weakness, it's a sad spectacle when your crying into the winds and all you can hear is the echoes is your sad cries. I just wish i could jump onto the wings of a bird and fly away.  
At this point i was willing to try anything, i went to the bathroom and got my father's razor from the sink, placing it on my arm. I remember trying to cut through to the skin but the blade was blunt and thick with hair that it took me over an hour just to pierce through to the skin. The blood trickled down my arm and yet i felt nothing, only annoyance that it didn't work, that the hollowness in my heart was still present.   
Suicide is a stigma that's considered to be selfish and self centered, surely it's selfish to want the victim to continue living knowing they are in such pain they can't even breathe. I've always believed of those thinking of taking their life as angels wanting to go home, and to be incredibly brave. Leaving loved ones behind to try and comprehend your decision will be difficult and heartbreaking for them, but when you have no one to miss you, the decision to leave becomes a lot easier.  
I look up at the sky which has now begun to darken as the sun dissipates, to my surprise my watch was reading 7.20 pm. I'd been sitting here lost in my thoughts for over three hours. The house was in darkness as i enter, blind and cold, i make myself a cup of tea and go to my room. I wasn't hungry so my belly remained bare, also there wasn't much left in the fridge besides mouldy cheese and milk.  
My depression is hard to explain that even i have trouble understanding it, the voice in my head sounds like me, but it isn't me. It's like the annoying older sister who insists she knows better just because she came out of the womb first. No matter what i do or how loud i shout, the feeling of emptiness is always there. It's the relentless tapping in my head, the unyielding shallows in my heart, the shouting in the dark with no one to guide you out, because no one cares enough to be with you in the first place never mind hand you a torch.  
My feeling of suicide is that hole in the wall that you see everyday, you know you'll have to fill it in one day, but until then you simply brush it to the side. My depression had fulfilled it's purpose in making me lose all direction, the roads will only take you so far then it's up to you to finish the journey. Depression doesn't discriminate, it invades your mind and soul and manipulates you into thinking that the life you have isn't the one you want.  
I feel like a fallen leaf that has hit the ground, withering away as each day passes with the change in light, slowly crumbling away into nothing. As I try to sleep i think about heaven quite a lot. I would love to believe there is another world beyond this one, one more majestic, serene, of great importance, an alternative reality of uncapped beauty would be a dream for me and a world i wouldn't mind living in. I've always felt like this world wasn't for me, it's like I'm looking through a window to another world that's waiting for me, it's just waiting for me to take the final leap.  
A noise startles me from downstairs, no doubt my father returning home from another successful bender. I walk into the kitchen to see him slumped on the floor awashed with spilled groceries and broken glass.  
"DAD" i shout, the smell of musky stale ale and cigarettes was his aftershave of choice.  
"I slipped" he burps trying to speak, i tread over the smashed egg shells to reach down to help him to his feet, but he slaps my hand away as if I've just burned him with my touch. I fetch him a glass of water along with a couple of aspirins.  
"I don't want them" he snaps.  
"You'll thank me in the morning " i say trying to salvage what groceries i could.  
"I don't need your help Allie" he scoffs.  
"Am i suppose to leave you lying on the floor all night" i shout back, my raised voice surprises him, so much so that he tries to stand, wrestling among the spoiled condiments and glass. I go to grab the brush but he again, snatches it from me.  
"I can do it, now go to bed " he was acting like a such a petulant child, stamping his feet wedging further into the spilled milk.  
"Fine ,do what you want" i cried myself to sleep that night, like most nights, i was crying for the life i wanted but was denied, this was my life, but it wasn't the life i wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

I awoke the next morning having managed about four hours sleep, more than what i would normally get but i still felt exhausted. I brush my teeth and wash my face, styling my hair had become problematic as most of it was clogging up the bathroom drain. I was so scared to brush it, clumps would cascade through the wraps of my fingers with my scalp peeking through the willing strands left behind. I grab a fabric headband to cover my balding scalp and impending shame, my feet carrying me downwards to survey the carnage left from last night.  
The floor was tacky and littered, i follow the stale odour to find my father sweating in his skin wedged into the sofa, still sleeping, having to check his pulse for a heartbeat was a common occurance.  
"Dad" i shake him, judging him, hating him but wanting to love him.  
"What" he mumbles, his lips sewn shut with the taste of sweet whisky chasers.  
"Your going to be late for work" i nudge him again.  
He swiftly turns his back and slurrs "I don't work Friday's anymore, go away Allie and get to school" i should be used to him turning his back on me, and so i head off to school leaving him stooped in his hangover coma.  
My first class was Maths, this was my weakest and most loathed subject, i just could never understand the mathematical equations and implications regardless how hard i tried, i mean i can count, doubtful it would lead me to a passing grade though.At least Shane was in attendace today which made it a little more bearable, i remember him telling the class he got dressed up as a girl once, with full hair and makeup and went out on an actual date for a bet. He recalled getting as far as dessert before the other boy twigged that his date was in fact a boy. Shane was a natural story teller that kept you gripped in your seats, his ghost stories would pimple your skin and make the hairs on your neck brisk upwards. It would never be mundane or ordinary if you had Shane as a friend, i imagine it would be like starring in your own sitcom, i would be the added extra that no one asked for. Aquiring friends isn't something you should have to beg or bargain for, it should be easy as boiling a kettle, but the more time you spend on your own, the more comfortable you become in your own skin. Your childhood friends are meant to carry and support you through your adult life, you can't take with you what you've never had.  
Tomorrow was the start of the weekend and i wasn't particularly looking to my father loitering around the house ,his moods would change so fast they gave me whiplash. I was forgotten ,trudging through my thoughts it took me a few seconds to notice a woman staring at me from beyond the window. As i squint through the frosted glass of dirt and debris, she was motionless, all except an expressionless fixed smile on her face which I'm not going to lie, unnerved me a little.  
"Allie can you please pay attention to the class instead of looking out of the window" chastised Mr Woods, i quickly revert my attention back to the class and his continous scribbling, when i sneak a gaze back, she's gone.  
Break time arrived not long afterwards, and with the rain thundering down and the clouds muted grey ,i didn't have nowhere to go.  
"Allie it's lunchtime" announced Mr Woods stating the obvious.  
"I still have some work to do Sir" i say, he nods without saying anything and leaves me be. The rain was pounding on the glass so hard the panes shifted and shook.  
"Oh I'm sorry, i didn't mean to disturb you, i assumed the classroom would be empty" i hear, it was a girl , her eyes lit up matching her smile, i didn't recognise her.  
"It's fine" replying a smile i wasn't familiar with.  
"Mr woods asked me to fetch him his notes, i swear i feel like a carrier pigeon, all i need is a bell tied around my leg, do you know he's had me running errands for him all day" she sighs, giggling as she sits down within a mere few inches between us.

"I haven't seen you around school before " i say, i couldn't believe i was actually contributing to an actual conversation, it's been so long that anyone has wanted to talk to me that I'm surprised my voice was intact.  
"I'm from Jefferson High school, my parents abandoned me to go abroad to look after my sick Nan, so I'm stuck here with my Aunt until they come back " she surprises me with a gentle nudge, quickly followed my a ray of giggling that inadvertently made me giggle too. "I'm joking of course, i love my Nan dearly, my Aunt on the other hand guards me night and day, she's literally the warden straight out of Shawshank. I'm hoping it's just for a few weeks before i resort to plotting my escape, i even hear her in my sleep, she's like that song you hear in your head on repeat, the needles stuck and it just goes on and on" she moans.  
"Is it really that bad?" I ask, intrigued but also nervous, this was the longest conversation i've had besides my father, what if i say something inappropriate or stupid.  
"She means well....so what's your name?" I almost choked at such a simplistic question.  
"You want to know my name?" I spluttered.  
"Of course, what a silly question " she responds, amused at my childlike remark.  
"It's Allie"  
"It's nice to meet you Allie, my name is Summer" she reaches out her hand to shake mine, her nails were beautifully painted showcasing a ring so bright it could have scratched my corneas.  
'Do you like my ring?" she asks while observing my enviable stare.  
"It's stunning" i wasn't used to witnessing such splendour, my clothes were dowdy and unfit for purpose, the only accessory i wear around my wrist is my hair bobble. Summer twists the jewel admiring it on her finger, occasionally catching the light with each subtle turn, "It's an Amethyst stone, my parents got it for me for my 16th Birthday "  
Summer was very pretty, she had light blue eyes that danced in the sun, with her long blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, she was the pinacle of what every girl aspired to look like.  
"Here try it on" before i could protest , the ring was already planted in my hand waiting for deliverance.  
"But...what if it gets stuck" i cry out, Summer exploding into a fit of laughter slides the ring onto my chosen finger, amazingly it fitted perfectly.  
"It suits you" bless her sincerity, it didn't, my hands didn't look like Summer's, my nails were bitten down to the skin and looked sore.  
"So what are you doing in here on your own?"  
"I just wanted to catch up on some reading, i like the quietness of a room, you don't have to worry about filling it up with words" i reply handing her back the ring. She looks at me for the longest time gifting me with a smile ,resting for a second to speak again, respecting the stillness of the room.  
"I know what you mean, i love my cousin to bits but she never shuts up, i go to bed with an earache and wake up with a headache. So what about you ,are you close to your cousins?"  
"I don't have any" i answer.  
"What about brothers and sisters?"  
"It's just me and my Dad" i answer trying my best not to sound bitter.  
"You must be really close if it's just the two of you " i fake a smile , my story was too sad to burden anyone with it, sometimes i bore myself with my constant state of melancholy and dejection.  
"So what do you do around here for fun?" Summer asks .  
Before i could think of anything vaguely interesting, we were interrupted.  
"Summer what are you doing?" I recognised the shrieking vale of contempt without having to look in her direction, it was Hannah, the embedded scowl in printed onto her face was her signature look.  
Summer replies innocently "I'm talking to Allie"  
"Yes i can see that, but we don't talk to her" Hannah's smile was as ugly as her tongue.  
Summer shakes her head searching my face for answers "Why would you say that?"  
"Isn't it obvious, just look at her, look at what she's wearing, she's a freak" exclaimed Hannah, confirming my new identity by pointing at me.  
"HANNAH!" raged Summer.  
"It's okay " i whisper pleading with her, i didn't want to make a scene and Hannah was more than willing to create one. Summer purposely kicks her chair startling Hannah "It's not okay Allie, no one has the right to speak to you like that, Hannah you might be family but sometimes i could slap you"  
"Oh come on ...Allie knows I'm only teasing " gestured Hannah, trying to appease Summer. I gulped, hard and shallow, my throat was as dry as the dessert caught in a sandstorm, utterly bewildered that this sweet girl was actually tied to this venomous little troll 'Your related?"  
"Hannah's my cousin " revealed Summer.  
"So she's the one your staying with" i couldn't believe the only person nice enough to talk to me was related to the one person who hates me the most. Hannah starts to pull at Summer's sleeve 'Can we go now"  
"Give me a minute, i'll meet you outside"  
"But..." Summer cuts Hannah off with a look worthy enough to make her spin on her toes and sulk off.  
"I'm sorry about Hannah, she really isn't that kind of person, the girl i know is sweet and shy, i don't know who that was " shrugs Summer, feeling appalled and ashamed by her cousin's actions.  
"I would rather meet the other one, this version hasn't been particularly nice to me. I mean you can't really blame her, look at me, i look like a homeless person"  
"You don't think very highly of yourself do you? " Summer was waiting for an answer, i didn't give one. I flick through my book in the blind attempt of avoiding any follow up questions, i wasn't looking for validation or sympathy and definitely didn't want any attention.  
"I better go, my cousin can get pretty impatient, it was nice to meet you Allie...maybe I'll see you around "  
"Maybe" i was hopeful but not realistic , So that was it, my longest and only friendship, lasting a solitary 12 minutes. It's not like the friendship would be maintainable anyway, not with Hannah standing in the way.  
The school days were getting progressively shorter with the end of term vastly approaching, as i make my way outside the image of Hannah strolling towards me made me sick to my stomach, swinging her hips to no music and skipping in her shoes made her look crazy. I quickly turn to walk off into the opposing direction but my escape was blocked by one of Hannah's friends, i didn't know her name but she always wore her pony tail so tight her eyes would dissapear into her forhead. Her stance was so close to me i could tell you what she had for lunch.  
"Hannah wants to talk to you " goaded the girl with no name and too much makeup.  
"Why were you talking to my cousin" quizzed Hannah.  
"Summer approached me , we hardly talked" i stammered, i hated feeling so weak and vulnerable but i felt powerless against her, my voice had no weight, my body broken and my heart numb, i was ready to just stand there and await my fate.  
'I don't care if she asked you where the toilets were, your not significant enough to talk to anyone never mind my cousin. There's a reason why you don't have any friends Allie, no one likes you "her words were harsh but true, i didn't have any friends.  
"What...haven't you got anything to say" interjects another girl .  
"Nothing you'd like to hear' my voice barely a whisper, not enough to carry an impact but enough for Hannah to hear, her ears pricked up much to her delight.  
"Summer was only talking to you because she felt sorry for you, she likes to take pity on those more unfortunate.  
Allie do you even own a hairbrush, and those trainers belong in a bin, not on your feet" the girls collectively burst into a bubble of laughter while i look away, i wasn't going to cry, not infront of them, i still had that little bit of power i was prepared to fight for. I was holding onto it so tightly, fighting back the growing wells that were flooding behind my eyelids fighting for release.  
"I bet you haven't been kissed by a boy yet have you, what does that feel like...no one wanting you" lonely i say to myself.  
"Hannah what are you doing?" I hear someone shout, breaking my attention away enough for me to feel slightly relieved, i see Mrs Baldwin the school secretary walking to her car.  
'Just asking Allie if she wants a ride home Miss" Hannah shouts back.  
"Allie are you okay!" She asks, pausing for a brief second before getting in her car, this was my getaway  
"I'm fine Miss" I start to run and didn't look back once for fear of Hannah and her gang giving chase, my legs felt like weighted tree stumps, my chest as tight as my father's wallet. I stop to gather my strength, whatever little i had left and walked the rest of the way home.  
The skiessuddenly roared as the heavens stretched allowing the rain to fall, no umbrella and no hood, well it didn't take long for me to swimming in my shoes. I had worn my souls down to the boned stitch making it very uncomfortable to walk . I can't remember a time when my father was home before me, even if he finished work early he would prefer to be accompanied by a bottle of beer rather than his daughter. He never acknowledged me washing and pressing his clothes or me tidying the house, maybe he just expected it with me living his house, like an unpaid maid. Sleep was becoming more of a nuisance than a necessity, i knew my father had a stash of sleeping pills that he hoarded away when his self inflicted hangovers would get a bit too much and he needed to sleep it off. My all consuming thoughts at 3am in the morning would go so far off tangent, that even i wasn't sure what they meant, i just needed something to reign them in.

The tablets were surprisingly easy to swallow considering how big they were, with an old biscuit and a warm cup of tea, i settle under the duvet to read my book, praying the tablets would take effect long enough to enable me to get some sleep. I was an always an over thinker, always over analysing, forever captious of myself and my act, to be able to live your life without hesitation or fear should be normal...but i wasn't normal. My brain doesn't function like everyone else's, it's like there's a piece missing to a puzzle that when you eventually put them together, i might just feel normal again. Staring at the cracks in my cieling had become my counting aid, all 137 of them, i was amazed the ceiling was still unharmed and hadn't fallen on my head yet.  
I woke at 3.32 am, vexed the tablets had worn off, the whistled exasperated snores from my father's bedroom stalked into my room, drowning my head into my pillow offered no relief whatsoever. I needed more pills, creeping into my father's room was an option just incase he wasn't alone in there. I remember a 24 hour pharmacist within walking distance so i quickly grab my coat and chuck it over my pajamas. Here i walk, with the sky painted black, idled and alone, strangers passing me in the street with no interest in who i am or where I'm going.  
"Can i help you miss?" asks the woman behind the counter, yawning so wide i could have dove in with a paddle.  
"I'd like some tablets please, sleeping pills" i answer, trying to hide my yearning and obvious desperation.   
"The 24 or 48 box" i snap my answer so quickly her eyes blinked out of her head, i could tell she was quizzical but probably too tired to care, she didn't even question my age. I hand over my money in quick sucession trying to mask my exuberance over my success, i never expected it to be this easy.  
"Don't take two at a time" she instructed.   
"I won't, thankyou"   
As i make my way home, i was alerted by a presence standing infront of me, it was the woman i saw standing outside my classroom window. Her smile errant, golden shards of hair blowing in the cool breeze. I couldn't take my eyes off her, just as i begin to walk towards her, she turns her back.  
"Hey wait " i shout, picking up my feet immediately to try and catch her, the uneven street wasn't too forgiving on my beaten shoes causing me to stumble and fall. The ground rushed to my face so quickly i didn't have time to protect myself, my cheek smashed the cold rock with a hard thump, the pain was immeasurable.   
With no one to help me i dust myself off, rubbing my brushed bruised cheek ...the woman was gone too.  
To my surprise on entering my house, my father was dancing over the stove stirring something in a pot, dressed and clean shaven.  
"Allie what the hell are you wearing, have you been outside in your pajamas? " he was looking at me like i was on day release from a mental hospital.   
"Dad it's 4 am in the morning, what are you doing awake? " he shakes his head ,a mixture of confusion and embarrassment sweeps accross his face.as he takes off my coat planting me in the chair."Nugget it's 2 pm in the afternoon, i thought you were in your bedroom....have you been sleepwalking? " i touch my face as the sting starts to radiate ,warming up my whole cheek. My mouth was burning, my mind conceding to the torment ,how could i have been walking for ten hours with no light from the sky to guide me home, was the fall more fatal than i thought, was i unconscious?


End file.
